Writhing,...God above I pray, fast, scrimmage with sobriety, sometimes project false image for my small town society. Say some aloud when proud, when humiliated utter, trip over, stutter, scream, cry & in alternate language issue forth & sometimes in abject madness do my prayers 🙏 to you occasionally become articulated,...utterly marionated in sadness. It is my fondest wish this Mars 24th Ram denounces happily Son of Sam conduct constructs fuct & embraces the holy Fish. I offer you this my Lord, my Everything,...my Althing, My Wöten, My Odin, this humble Emoten & sanctified oration that YOU might hear the desperation of my savagely put forth Ovation. Hear my plea's O'Lord. This is my singular layman's prayer. I have no Priest, Cleric or Shaymen lest they make sick, poison, add esoteric verse, otherwise make terse, or pervert my word to you My Lord. It
cannot be so. This great sickness has got to go. Purge from me these ills, the shit, the pills, the desires, the ruminated thoughts,...the unsolicited woes & angry throws of my Woman. Deliver us both from Evil. That We might live out...